WEBELO  

The camp is filled with Webelos this week,
10-year-olds tenting in the forest to be trained
in the special lore Boy Scouts need at 11.
.
Trekking to Apache campsite, you don’t let me
carry your gear. You barely watch as I leave
to find the parking lot.
.
The trees behind me echo with the shouts of a hundred
wild Webelos, safe in the valley between
childhood and what is to come.
.
You’ll be ours again in a week, but something will be lost,
drifted off like the smoke of campfires or nighttime
shadows around your tent.
.
The Webelo I drive back home will stare ahead
through the windshield, eyes focused on longer
journeys through deeper forests.

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